


Lost In You

by xantissa



Series: Souls On Fire [2]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, song fic god help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>regret. Logan watching over a hurt Remy. Prequel to Souls on Fire. 08-01-2005</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost In You

Logan's POV

I stand in the small bathroom and look at my face in the mirror. I don't look good. It's strange how a person that can heal so fast, that can regenerate his body in a matter of seconds, can look so bad.

My eyes are circled by dark skin and I don't even care to shave anymore. With a sigh I shed the uniform and wet the washcloth. Closing my eyes I move the wet cloth over my chest, too tired to take a shower, cleaning away all the sweat and gore from my body.

I wish it was his hands holding the cloth, cleaning me with tenderness that was always inside him, just no  
one noticed it. He would fill the room with funny, outrageous chatter, doing it only for me to relax.

I toss the washcloth into the sink and watch the slightly pink water drain slowly and think about all  
the things that I wish could be washed just as easily from my soul like this blood from my skin.

* *

You look into my eyes  
I go out of my mind  
I can't see anything  
Cos this love's got me blind

* *

The harsh light of the halogen bulb cuts into my sensitive eyes like a knife. The sound of the water slowly dripping is the only sound filling the confined space. Although my hearing could let me hear what Jean or Scott were now doing I focus it on the water, wishing that everything went away.

God, I am tired.

* *

I can't help myself  
I can't break the spell  
I can't even try

* *

I think about my days in Weapon X. my memory is so unreliable. I loved Silver Fox, but which memories are true? What have I done except for what I remember? Then I think about all those people in the Mansion. They judged him like a murderer, they sentenced him to DEATH! They, who have sins of their own. Yet he came back and fought by our side. He changed. The Antarctica took something away from him.

Took his passion.

* *

I'm in over my head  
You got under skin  
I got no strength at all  
In the state that I'm in

* *

I close my eyes and lean my forehead on the cool mirror. We live in the same house, fight together for years, but how good we really know each other? They thought him a slut, a traitor while he accepted whatever shit was thrown at him.

They think me a beast, an animal without conscience, but they send me to kill for them.

None of us ever heard a word of thank you.

* *

And my knees are weak  
And my mouth can't speak  
Fell too far this time

* *

There was never anything between us. Before Antarctica he was with her. I knew it wasn't good. She played him, promised him closeness and love she denied when he asked.

Then when he came back, he seemed not to hold any interest in anything. The casual flirting, the companionable drinking and talking was all gone. He would sit on the roof, dressed in as many warm  
sweaters he could find, and brood.

He always seemed to be cold these days.

* *

Baby, I'm too lost in you  
Caught in you

* *

And then came that day. A day when Warren and Rogue hesitated a minute too long. A day when Remy didn't get back up on a mission for Scott.

God, I still remember that day. The first thing I smelled was blood. A fucking whole pool of blood.

Sometimes, when I look at my hands I still see it. The blood dripping from his tormented, limp body cradled in my arms.

I should have known.

* *

Lost in everything about you  
So deep, I can't sleep  
I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do  
I'm too lost in you

* *

The first thing I notice is the smell. My head snaps up so fast I hear the bones crack and wince in pain. I am not sure, even now, if it happened for real. But the sharp, spicy scent is still there and I can't ignore it. I don't want to.

Then comes the sound. Soft, steady heartbeat. I close my eyes and feel him come closer.

* *

Well you whispered to me  
And I shiver inside  
You undo me and move me  
In ways undefined

* *

He looks at me with gentle concern in his eyes. I stand there, frozen, in the middle of the bathroom. Unable to move, entranced by his effortless, long-limbed grace as he approaches me.

He stops right behind me, so close I can feel his body heat on my naked back, raising a shiver out of me. Then he ghosts a kiss over the nape of my neck and puts a hand on my shoulder, moving it slowly forward till it rests on my pectoral.

Over my heart.

And he just stills in that position, eyes closed, just feeling my heartbeat, hearing me. The time stretches into an eternity that is still too short. A time I wish to grab and hold to me, keep it to myself and prevent it from ending. I want to keep him here.

With me.

* *

And you're all I see  
And you're all I need  
Help me baby  
Help me baby

* *

I put my own, crude hand over his and close my eyes consciously avoiding looking into the mirror.

I don't want to see the truth.

My eyes still closed, I feel him take my hand and slowly lead me out of the bathroom. When I open my eyes, we are standing near the bed. He still watches me with that gentle, trusting concern.

Oh god! How can he smile at me like that? How can he stand me if I still can see his blood on my hands? His limp body, pale and cold, lying in that dirty, old warehouse?

* *

Cos I'm slipping away  
Like the sand to the tide  
Falling into your arms  
Falling into your eyes  
If you get too near  
I might disappear  
I might lose my mind

* *

In silence that seems almost sacred I watch him shed his clothes. I don't even remember that I am naked also. This moment has so much more meaning that simple sexual layer. it is. everything.

I am so caught up in his beauty and effortless grace that I am even afraid to breath deeper. With a gentle, mysterious smile on his lips, he crawls on the bed and stills, just looking at me and waiting. My siren call.

Waiting for my decision.

Feeling as if I was both blessed and cursed I sit beside him. I am hesitant to touch him, because it isn't the first time he came to me like that.

The first touch of my hand on his cheek and he closes his eyes, while his hands pull me closer, to cover his lean, cool body. I inhale deeply, lying over him and fill myself with the scent of him, the pure essence  
that is him.

And the smell of his tears.

* *

Baby, I'm too lost in you  
Caught in you  
Lost in everything about you  
So deep, I can't sleep

* *

I open my eyes feeling his pale, beautiful thighs part to let my body nestle between them and look into his wide open, red on black, eyes.

Slowly, silently the tears escape the corners of his eyes and run down his temples to disappear into his rich, auburn hair. And I know I will be able to smell his musk and his tears on my pillows for days afterwards.

He opens his mouth but no sounds leave his parted lips. When I enter his body, feeling myself sink into the velvety, hot channel only a gasp is his answer. His hands clutch me tightly, pulling me even closer if it is at all possible and I comply, letting him take more of my weight, letting myself get lost in him.

* *

I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do  
I'm too lost in you  
Too lost in you

* *

I stretch and my lips are finally able to taste the salty liquid, the tears falling from his eyes.

At this particular moment, this little piece of time, I love him more than I remember ever loving someone.

Our bodies move in a perfect rhythm, as if we were born to be together this way. I try to prolong this as long as I can, because I know that each time we are together, can be our last time. I look at my silent lover, flushed from passion with tears drying slowly on his warm skin and am painfully aware that he never promises to return, that there are no guarantees.

* *

I'm going in crazy in love for you baby  
(I can't eat and I can't sleep)  
I'm going down like a stone in the sea  
Yeah, no one can mess with me  
(No one can mess with me)

* *

Even when the bliss overtakes me, when our bodies spasm reaching the peak and his flesh clenches almost painfully over mine, I keep my eyes open, trying to burn his face in my memory, in my very soul.

I want to remember him like this. Flushed, happy. alive. Not what he really is like. I want to fool myself at least for a little while.

When afterwards, I lie with my head tucked into the crook of his arm, his warm scent surrounding me, I fight the sleepiness. I know I can't stay awake forever, but just this one minute longer, just this one moment when he is still with me.

But the battle is lost even before it is started and I slip into the land of dreams where there is only me. and nothingness.

* *

Baby, I'm too lost in you  
Caught in you  
Lost in everything about you  
So deep, I can't sleep  
I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do (you do)  
I'm too lost in you

* *

I wake up alone, just like I knew I would. The sheets still smell of us. Of the passion we shared and in the air there still is that salty tang of his tears.

I close my eyes for a minute remembering how it felt to kiss his lips, sweet and salty, to feel his passion, his love. and his eternal sadness in one touch.

It's dark outside, but it's no use in trying to sleep. It will take long, long weeks before I will be able to sleep again, and even then I will wake up reaching out, desperately seeking his warm body beside me or calling out his name.

And when the dreams will start to fade away, when I start to believe that it never happened and never will, he will come to me and it will all start again. One moment of happiness and then so much pain.

Slowly, my body still relaxed and humming with the remnants of our love I get up and pull my favorite jeans on, not bothering with a shirt.

It's late. Whoever will still be awake wouldn't be bothered by my lack of clothes.

I hear something in the kitchen, so I slowly made my way there. Without revealing myself I look into the dark space not really surprised to see Scott, sitting alone in the kitchen and staring at a spot in the wall. I can literally smell the guilt on him but, no matter how irritating Slim is, it wasn't his fault.

After all he wasn't even at the same continent when it all happened. I on the other hand have no excuse.

Without disturbing him I leave my observation spot and move along the dark corridors. The lack of light doesn't bother me. My eyes let me move in nearly perfect darkness. I even prefer it that way.

When the lights are on, it all seems more real. This way I can always pretend it's just a nightmare. Hell designed by my subconscious.

* *

I'm lost in you  
I'm lost in you  
I'm lost in everything about you  
So deep (so deep), I can't sleep  
I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do (you do)  
I'm too lost in you  
(Too lost in you)

* *

I don't know how long it took me to reach the infirmary. Probably not longer than few minutes, but it still feels as if I went for miles.

I enter the quiet room, the silence disturbed only by gentle hum of the different computers and medical machinery.

I approach Hank's computer and start typing. They don't know I can do it. That I can actually hack into Hank's files. That I can understand most of that scientific babble he calls talking and this data that the screen now displays.

They don't know.

They never asked.

Finally the print of the nights activities shows up. Just like before. There was a significant spike in heartbeat and brain activity for almost an hour, and then it went back to so low, it bordered on dead.

I remove all traces of my activity and head to the back of the room. I don't feel any hope flares anymore. After thirteen months it is hard to still believe.

I push the curtain back and still my heart constricts at the sight, no matter how may times I have actually seen it.

He is lying there, completely still, with almost no brain activity, his breathing aided by the respirator. He is pale, his auburn hair longer and without its usual shine.

I approach the bed, looking at his closed eyes. God, he seems so thin and fragile with no ounce of life left in him.

I sit on a chair beside the bed taking his limp hand in mine and watch him silently. After thirteen months of being in a deep coma, there is no real chance for him to ever recover.

"Remy" it's actually the first time I spoke his name today, but it hurts so damn much every time when he fails to respond to me.

So I sit there, listening to the time tickling away, smelling the sickness all over him and I can wonder only about one thing.

Was it real?


End file.
